Saturday, May 28, 2011

The Pony Cart by Anne Selden Annab

The Pony Cart

In Spring’s melt,
past the meadows
and the plank barn,
deep in the timbered thicket
and down the farthest gully,

A wooden wheel appears
out of the newly washed earth.

Its perfect orb escapes
thistles and thorns.
Vines twine into the spokes
and fresh rust crumbles
out of old hammer blows
on the outer iron rim.

In Spring’s melt
a child touches history
as I pull the reins
of twisting vines,
creaking and rumbling
through time.


Branches online magazine

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